


inner strength

by deanwstories



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abused Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angels, BAMF Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dark, Dean Winchester Has Powers, Dean Winchester Whump, Dean gets pulled in, Demons, Flashbacks, Hurt Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Magic, Omega Dean, Pack Dynamics, Past Child Abuse, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Lucifer (Supernatural), Protective Michael, Rape/Non-con Elements, Role Reversal, Sam Winchester is a hunter, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26113891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanwstories/pseuds/deanwstories
Summary: Dean took a shaky, deep breath, as he got on the bed. He could do this. Just fucking man up. He shrugged off his jacket and grabbed the end of his tee shirt. He looked up to see his reflection staring back at him, and with one swift motion, took off his shirt. There were long ugly scars running up and down both of his arms. He tried to look away, still not comfortable seeing himself naked. A strong hand gripped his jaw tightly causing Dean to freeze in place.“Ah, ah, Deano. What did I say about looking away?” the man’s nasal voice seemed to slither around Dean like a snake. The omega shivered. “Your beauty needs an audience.” He carded his fingers through Dean’s hair softly.“Alastair,” Dean moaned.ORSaved from a lifetime of abuse by three mysterious alphas who claim that his little brother is actually alive, Dean begins an adventure full of magic, monsters and self discovery.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Lucifer/Dean Winchester, Michael/Dean Winchester
Comments: 42
Kudos: 198





	1. deano

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo...heads up. There's heavy implication of underage non-con/grooming. Alastair has no redeeming qualities.

Dean took a shaky, deep breath as he got on the bed. He could do this. Just fucking man up, he berated himself. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it off the side of the bed. He cringed internally. It was one of the few things he had that wasn't so beat up. He remembered begging for it for one of his birthdays. He shouldn't treat it so carelessly. He glanced over the bed, debating with himself to pick it up again and pile it neatly on the nearby chair. Dean glanced over his shoulder to the door. He could hear the faint footsteps coming up the stairs. He didn’t have time. He took another deep breath and grabbed the end of his tee shirt. He looked up briefly to see the hated old mirror sitting against the headboard. Before he could look away, he caught his reflection staring back at him. Dean tried not to look too long. He always hated what he saw. With one swift motion, he took off his shirt and tossed it on top of the jacket. 

His eyes that used to be a vibrant green were now duller. His hair had grown out longer than he wanted, reaching almost to his shoulders now. There were long ugly scars running up and down both his arms. And judging from the dull ache coming from his back, he was pretty sure his back wasn’t a pretty sight either. He tried to look away, still not comfortable seeing himself naked. A strong hand gripped his jaw tightly causing Dean to freeze in place.

“Ah, ah, Deano. What did I say about looking away?” the man’s nasal voice seemed to slither around Dean like a snake. The omega shivered. “Your beauty needs an audience.” He carded his fingers through Dean’s hair softly. Dean couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the man’s touch. The man laughed as he pulled back, watching as Dean tried to chase after him.

“Alastair,” Dean moaned.

Dean both hated and loved Alastair. Alastair Masters was the man who found Dean after the terrible house fire that took not just his mother, but his father and baby brother as well. Dean had only been four when that happened. His memory of that night was still hazy. 

Alastair told him most of the things he knew now. That he found Dean wandering around the streets that night crying. He called in the fire department anonymously, and decided to take Dean instead of leaving him to the state. Dean still had no idea how he managed that. But he had been grateful that Alastair decided to raise him. At least at first. Alastair had been kind and patient and attentive. But then, Dean showed signs of being an omega by the time he was eight and things started to slowly change. Alastair started to become a little too attentive. His gaze would move from Dean’s face to the rest of his body, lingering a little too long on his ass. 

He remembered vividly a time when he just turned nine. 

_It was the day after his birthday and Alastair came home an hour earlier than normal while Dean was lounging in sweats, watching a Scooby-Doo episode out of boredom. He just finished with his chores and homework a little while ago when he heard the door creak open. He had been bombarded with the smell of booze and alpha pheromones and it made Dean scrunch his nose._

_“Deano,” Alastair called out, stumbling in. He kicked the door shut and looked around to see Dean sitting back in the recliner, watching him carefully. He smiled as he caught the whiff of Dean’s sweet aroma. He made a beeline for Dean, not bothering to even take off his shoes. “You’re so pretty, kid. Soon enough I’m gonna have to scare off all the potential alpha suitors,” he joked, reaching out to touch Dean’s face._

_Dean leaned in automatically even as he asked, “Why would you need to scare off alphas?” Alastair gently traced a thumb over Dean’s cheek. A barely audible sigh escaped from Dean’s lips as he closed his eyes._

He had been naive then. He thought Alastair’s obsession over him was a good thing. After all, Alastair would come home more often. He would shower Dean with gifts and affection. He would listen to Dean’s day and help him more on his homework and watch cartoons with him. They would cuddle on the couch and Alastair would sometimes wrap his arm around his shoulder or card his hand through his hair, and they would sometimes sit like that for hours, until Dean found himself nodding off. Dean had no idea that it had all been one giant act. Under the smiles and caring words was an impatient man whose obsession ran so deep that Dean was pretty sure he was never going to get out of his imprisonment alive. 

The hot, searing pain caused by the familiar knife on his back jolted Dean back into reality. He gasped, trying to curl on his side, but found that he couldn’t move his arms or legs. Alastair gripped his chin, tilting his head so that he had no choice but to stare at his own ugly reflection. Curling his fingers so that the nails were biting painfully into his palms, he tugged at the ropes. There was no give as expected. Alastair’s grip tightened in response.

“You know you’re not supposed to be trying to escape your bonds, Deano,” Alastair said in a voice dripping with false sweetness. Dean shuddered, closing his eyes. Alastair must have been watching because he gave Dean a hard shake. “Open your eyes. Look at yourself, omega.” Dean thought, for a brief second, to rebel. Just that one show of defiance. To tell Alastair that even after all these years he still didn’t own Dean. Not in here at least. Not where it truly counted.

The slide of the knife pressed into his skin had Dean gritting his teeth. “Open your goddamn eyes,” Alastair hissed, pressing the knife deeper into his flesh. 

_Don’t you dare give in, dammit_ , he thought to himself.

“Deano,” Alastair’s voice was louder, the knife cutting deeper and deeper. The pain getting hotter and more intense. But he wasn’t going to give in at this point. Alastair was going to have to pry his eyes open at this point. He wasn’t fucking budging. “Listen to me, you worthless fuck-” No. “You’re going to obey me, Deano-” No, no, no. “Don’t fight this-” _No_! “Do you want to fucking die!?” _**NO**_! Dean’s eyes shot open. Of course he didn’t want to die. Something inside him seemed to awaken at the realization.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” With a sudden burst of strength, he yanked loose the ropes and grabbed hold of Alastair, taking the alpha by surprise, and threw him off the bed. He lay on the bed for a moment. The room became eerily quiet. The only sounds he could hear were his heavy breathing and the loud thundering his heart. He looked down at his hands, realizing he had freed himself somehow. The moment he realized he could move, the reality of what happened seemed to crash down on him. The searing pain coming from the knife still lodged deep in his back was almost enough to knock him out again. But he didn’t have time for that. Alastair wasn’t dead. He was going to rouse soon and if Dean hadn’t made his escape by then, Alastair was surely going to kill him. Driven with the need to live, Dean grit his teeth together and reached a shaky hand to his back. He found the cold handle of the knife instantly. 

_This is gonna fucking hurt, but don’t you dare scream like a little girl._

Then just as he was about to pull the knife out, the door to the room slammed open and Dean, dizzy with pain, thought he saw three guys burst through like some kind of superheroes. He grinned at the strangers, showing bloody teeth, “Bout time the cavalry showed up.” The sudden burst of adrenaline was quickly leaving, and Dean had to fight hard just to keep his eyes open.

Dean thought he saw halos over the strange men. _Angels_ , he thought. _Angels came to save me._

He started to close his eyes after a moment. Vaguely he heard one of the guys say, “You think this is Sam Winchester’s brother?”

Dean didn’t have time to process the words before he was slipping blissfully into sleep.


	2. a strange place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Thank you, guys, for all of the kudos and comments! I'll get to replying to you guys soon. I do enjoy reading each of the comments so again let me know what you think. :) Warnings for Alastair and onwards to more mystery!

“Oh, Deano, Deano,” Alastair tsked, disappointment so clear on his face as he gripped Dean’s jaw tightly. Dean’s eyes went wide as the man brought the knife up close to his face, the silver glinting dangerously in the bright light of the room. His terrified reflection was staring back at him as he hung uselessly in Alastair’s grip. “You’ve been such a naughty little omega.” He leaned in close so that Dean could smell the booze in his breath. “And do you know what I do with naughty omegas, Dean?” he hissed. Dean shook his head. _Please no._ Alastair smiled ever so sweetly, showing a remnant of the man he was before his obsession of Dean took its slimy hold. Dean tried to cling to that image from before his life was made a living hell.

He tried to beg Alastair with his eyes. _Please don’t do it._ His body was sore all over still. He had no strength left to put up a fight. All he could do was look up at Alastair and hope he still had a shred of humanity left.

“No? You don’t know the answer? That’s fine, sweetheart. I’ll just tell you then,” Alastair said so falsely sweet. His grip on Dean’s jaw loosened just a little. But Dean could see in his eyes this was just another sick game. He was going to do something horrible to Dean. He was going to hurt him. He suddenly didn’t want to hear the answer. He tried to reach up to push Alastair off him but his arms wouldn’t cooperate. His legs felt like jelly. If Alastair let go of him, he’d collapse to his knees. He stared into Alastair’s eyes. There was a darkness that swirled in them. It promised terrible things. Like death and destruction, things that Dean could never hope to recover from. 

_I’m going to die._

“I _knife_ naughty omegas,” Alastair said at the same time as Dean’s realization. 

Dean watched helplessly as Alastair brought the knife slowly down on him. The whole world seemed to stop moving. 

_I don’t want to die though_ , another stray thought bounced within his head.

He woke up with a gasp, drenched in sweat. He could hear his heart thundering. A dream. It had all been a dream then, a nightmare. He gazed up at the unfamiliar ceiling. There was a fan above him. It was spinning slowly, and he finally felt the cool air hit his face. 

He sat up slowly, gasping at the dull ache coming from his back at the action. He looked down and realized he was wearing different clothes. Gone were his black tee shirt and jeans. He was wearing a red silky button up and loose matching pants that looked like they were made for sleeping. He frowned, reaching down to touch the soft fabric. He didn’t own anything like this. He winced as he was hit with another throb of pain. 

Why the fuck did his back hurt so much?

Hesitantly, he lifted the shirt up, exposing his stomach. He felt his eyes go wide in surprise when he saw bandages wrapped around his chest. He touched it gingerly. A flash of Alastair digging his knife into his back came to the forefront of his mind. He blinked, letting go of the end of the shirt. He started to remember more of what happened. Alastair and his sick game. Being tied, naked, to the bed. He looked up, eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other. There was a stream of light flooding from the window next to the bed. A plain desk sat at the far end of the wall, near the door Dean assumed led out to a hallway. It was open, just barely, exposing a bright yellow colored wall.

Dean had no idea where he was, just that he wasn’t back in that shithole with Alastair. He flung the blanket off his body and scooted off to the edge of the bed. His feet were bare he noticed as he slowly touched them to the cold wooden floor. Pushing himself off and onto his feet, he took a stumbling step forward, hands stretched out to touch the wall to balance himself upright. The pain from the knife throbbed, making itself known, and Dean let out a small hiss.

He staggered to the window, gripping the sill tightly. He had to get out of here, wherever here was. He was somewhere strange, unknown, with a wound that barely left him with enough strength to stand, let alone walk...he was vulnerable. Dean grit his teeth against the pain and made himself start to walk, one foot in front of the other. Rinse, repeat. 

He made it halfway across the room before he had to stop and lean down, hands on his knees as he took long, deep breaths. His back protested even more at his position and he slowly stood up again. Jesus. The movies always made escapes look so easy. Even when someone was halfway to dying they still always seemed to have enough strength to make it out of one small room. He just wasn’t superhero material he supposed.

Just as he took another step, he heard the door creak. Dean froze in his tracks. Oh crap, oh crap. 

“Well looks like Winchester didn’t bother to wait for us after all.” The door opened wider to reveal a tall, unfamiliar man with short, brown hair. Dean stared at the man from where he stood. The man’s sharp blue eyes looked him up and down and Dean had the feeling of being dissected. It was a familiar look, one that Alastair sometimes got when he didn’t think Dean was watching him from the corner of his eyes. The guy was definitely an alpha as well. Dean could smell him a mile away. Before he could think to back up, the guy held up his hands in a gesture that meant he didn’t want trouble. “Whoa. Easy tiger. Ain’t gonna hurt you,” the man said.

Dean stared at the man, deciding that moving was probably a bad idea right now. He had no idea who this guy was or what he wanted. He could feel his muscles tense, ready to spring into action if the guy decided to come too close. Dean wasn’t gonna just stand around and tempt fate anymore than he already had just by letting some strange alpha get too close into his personal bubble. He might not be in fighting shape just yet, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to roll over and be another alpha’s bitch. Not again.

“Who are you?” he bared his teeth as the guy decided to step inside the room. 

God damn it. He was trapped in the room with this alpha now. “Hey, whoa. I told you I’m not here to hurt you,” the alpha said again. 

He was backing away from the door slowly. Dean watched him closely, trying to see what he was doing. The alpha glanced over to the door and Dean followed his gaze to see another alpha watching the exchange with mild interest. Dean tensed even more. There were more alphas. Great. This was exactly what he wanted to wake up to. 

_Out of the fire and back into the frying pan_ , he told himself bitterly.

“Look. My name is Nick and that’s my brother Michael. We have another brother named Jimmy,” the alpha told him.

“Okay, _Nick_ , where the hell am I and what do you want from me?” Dean sneered. Trapped in a strange house full of alphas was never a good feeling. 

“We saved you, Dean. You’re in our home currently,” the new alpha who was standing in front of Dean’s only escape route answered. Dean’s eyes darted to the newcomer, Michael. He licked his lips nervously. He had to get past the alpha somehow. Both of them. He glanced behind him to the window. It was latched closed. There was a lock in place. He would have to unlock it and try to pry the window open. There didn’t look like there was a screen placed behind it though. Michael must have mind reading powers because he said, “Don’t even try the window. You won’t be able to open it before Nick or I will be on you, especially in your current condition. And you won’t survive the two story drop.” Dean turned to glare at the alpha. There wasn’t a hint of smugness on his face. He looked deadly serious, maybe a little concerned. Dean didn’t understand why he would be worried over some nobody omega like him though. Michael sighed. “Look, why don’t you just come with us and we’ll explain more at breakfast? I know you have questions. I promise we’ll try and provide the answers as best as we can.”

Dean considered it. He didn’t really have much of a choice at this point. His back hurt. And as much as he was loath to admit it, Michael was right. If he wanted to escape, it wasn’t through the window. The two alphas looked sharp and fit, more so than Dean right now. They would be on him before he would even be able to make it there, let alone try and lift the window up. Besides...if they helped him get away from Alastair, shouldn’t he be grateful? Alastair wasn’t a good man. He used Dean, beat him senseless once, almost killed him. Anybody was better than Alastair, right?

He took a hesitating step forward, deciding it was better to probably go with the alphas. For now at least. At the first sign of trouble, he was going to fucking make a run for it. “Yeah, okay,” he said, eyeing them suspiciously still. 

Michael smiled, looking pleased. “Great,” he said, turning to leave. 

Nick smirked, motioning for Dean to walk in front of him. “After you, Winchester,” Nick said.

Dean frowned at the name as they headed down the hall. Michael was just a couple steps ahead. “Why do you keep calling me that and how do you even know my first name?”

Nick cocked his head to the side as he considered him. “Isn’t that your name? Dean Winchester, yes?”

Dean shook his head. No way. He was adopted. Alastair never told him his previous last name. He didn’t remember. He had been taken too young. “It’s Dean Masters.”

Nick made a face at that. “That douchebag that had you...his name’s Masters?”

“Yeah. Alastair Masters,” Dean said, shuddering at saying the name. Fuck. The alpha wasn’t here and he still caused Dean to shiver. He hated that the guy had that much control over him.

Michael paused in front of a large staircase, causing both Dean and Nick to stop as well. Michael turned back to Dean after a moment. “I just wanted to give you a fair warning before we head down for breakfast, Dean. There aren't just the three of us who live here.”

Dean waited for Michael to elaborate on that but the alpha just looked at him, waiting. Dean raised an eyebrow. “So, what...you got more brothers?” There was silence. Dean looked between the two alphas, trying to make sense of what was going on. He cleared his throat. “Okay. So how many of you live here exactly?”

“There are four of us,” Nick said from beside him, leaning against the railing. “But only Michael, Jimmy and I are brothers. The fourth person…” he trailed off, glancing to Michael.

Dean rubbed the side of his face. He was really not having a good morning so far. His patience was already thin as it was. “Okay. Three of you plus someone else. Just spit it out already. Who's this mystery person?” Dean demanded, wishing they would just get on with it so they could grab something to eat and he could get the hell out of dodge.

“Your brother, Dean. Sam Winchester,” Michael finally said. “He’ll be joining us for breakfast today.”

 _What_? Dean’s eyes went wide in shock. He hadn’t heard that name in such a long time. Sam. _Sammy._


	3. sammy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the longer update. I had to do some back to work training and fill in for someone last week. But hopefully I can get back to writing fanfics again! Thank you for all the comments. I love reading them and I try to respond to all of them. Things will be slowly revealed through the story so if things are still a little confusing, don't worry, it was meant to be. :) (Also please note I do not have a beta for any of my stories so if you see any changes to the chapters, it's just me fixing some inconsistencies).

Dean had a family before Alastair took him. He had a mom, a dad and a baby brother. _Sammy_. But the fire took Dean’s entire family that night. At least that was what Alastair told him. Now...he was being told his brother was alive. And here.

They walked down the stairs in silence. Dean could feel his heart racing, trying to rip out of his rib cage. He was about to meet his brother. Who he thought was dead. Burned up. Had he known his brother made it out alive somehow, Dean would have been searching for him. Of course he would. Sam was the only remaining family Dean had left. God. Alastair lied to him. The jackass said no one else made it out. The fire took everything. And Dean believed the asshole. He had been a little kid. Lost and terrified. And Alastair was very good in pretending to care.

Dean was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even notice that the alphas had stopped. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he almost jumped in surprise. He looked up to see that they had entered into a decent sized room that connected to the kitchen. The walls were painted a light, turquoise. There was a large bar counter with five stools. Someone was already sitting on one furthest to the right. Dean blinked as he stared at the person’s back. There wasn’t much he could tell from where he stood. The person had on a dark leather jacket and jeans. His hair was brown and long, but not quite as long as Dean’s. Dean reached up to touch his own hair, hating how long it was now. He really needed to get a haircut soon.

“Hey, Sammy,” Nick greeted cheerfully.

 _Sammy_? Dean watched as the guy turned around at the sound of his name. The guy, Sammy, glared at Nick. “How many times do I have to tell you that it’s Sam? Sammy was a chubby twelve year old kid,” Sam said. Holy shit. Was this really his brother? Dean could hardly see the resemblance. Yeah, he looked young. Probably wasn’t any older than eighteen if he had to guess. 

Nick rolled his eyes, still grinning, “And how many times do I have to tell you Sammy fits you better? Now lighten up, kid. And toss me a beer, will you?”

“Michael, I really hate your brother,” Sam grumbled. He turned around and crouched over a cooler on the floor that Dean hadn’t even noticed was there. It was sitting between a couple of the bar stools. Huh. How convenient. He took a can out and tossed it over to Nick who caught it effortlessly. “You know, you really need better taste,” Sam complained. “And what’s with beer in the morning? What’s the occasion?”

“We’re celebrating,” Michael said. He had been watching the exchange between the two in silent amusement.

“Celebrating what exactly?” Sam asked, glancing back at them. He froze when he finally caught sight of Dean. Dean could feel himself tense as he stared back at his supposed brother. His brain was still trying to make sense of things. Like being told his baby brother had survived the fire. 

Was this really Sammy? This kid with shaggy brown hair and wide doe eyes, wearing a jacket that looked like it had seen better days?

“Who the hell is that?” Sam’s voice broke Dean out of his thoughts. Sam had stood up to his full height now. Holy shit. The kid was actually pretty tall. He towered over everyone in the room in fact. His eyes, narrowed in suspicion, bore into Dean. He glanced over to Michael and Nick, silently demanding an answer.

Nick seemed unfazed by the reaction. He just opened his can of beer and took a long gulp. “This guy here,” Nick jerked a thumb at Dean, “is the cause of our celebration, Sammy boy.” Sam looked like he wanted to protest the nickname. The glare he had been shooting Dean before was now aimed at Nick. But Nick didn’t wait for him to respond. “Meet your long lost older brother, Dean Winchester.”

The silence that followed the declaration was heavy. Dean watched as Sam’s face seemed to be going through a revolving door of expressions. First he had a look like he was a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. It was a mix of terror and bewilderment. It lasted all of five seconds. Then he was furrowing his brows, and his lips curled in a frown and it looked kind of like he swallowed something awful. His face went through a few other morphs. Dean found himself watching his ‘brother’ in a weird sense of fascination. He was still not sure if this guy was even his baby brother. But...if he was, that’d be kind of sweet. After everything Dean had been through in his twenty two years of living, he figured he was entitled to have something good fall into his lap for once. The universe fucking owed him.

After a few minutes of the stare-down, Michael was the one who broke the silence with the clearing of his throat. Everyone turned to look at him. “I think we should continue this over breakfast. I’m sure everyone’s hungry by now.” He pulled out an old, worn down gold pocket watch and flipped it open. “It’s almost eleven. We can all have a seat at the bar or the table. Either way there’s plenty of space. Jimmy should be here momentarily with the food.”

Dean blinked, wanting to protest. They couldn’t just drop a bombshell on him like that, claiming that his brother was alive and this guy right here, this kid, was him. Sam. And then expect him to be all happy as a clam and have breakfast like it was no big deal. Like none of this was a big deal. He didn’t know any of these guys. He didn’t even know where the fuck he was. The only good thing about this place was there wasn’t any sign of Alastair. Although...these guys might be worse than Alastair. Who the fuck saves an omega out of the goodness of their hearts these days? Especially three strange alphas. Fuck. He really needed to stop letting his thoughts wander. It just made him even more on edge than he already was.

“Actually I’m not all that hungry,” Dean said after a moment. He glanced over at the kid, Sam, who was staring back at him. “I’d rather talk with my brother. Alone.” Sam’s eyes darted over to Michael and then to Nick before going back to Dean. He could tell Sam was curious about him, though still on guard, watching Dean’s every move like a hawk.

They each eyed the other for another moment, waiting for someone to make the first move. He wished Sam would say something, but the kid seemed to be content to just stand around and look at him like he was a new species at a zoo. Finally Nick walked in between them and said, “Look. As cute as it is to watch the two of you try to figure out who has the bigger dick, I think it’s high time we had some fucking breakfast.” He paused and stared Dean down as he opened his mouth to argue. Of course, then his traitorous stomach growled in protest. Nick’s lips quirked up in a grin. “Guess you and your little bro better sit your asses down.”

Dean glared at the alpha, hating this whole morning. Sure he wasn’t with Alastair anymore, but at least with that asshole, he knew what to expect. But this? Waking up in some strange place with people he didn’t know, even worse, were mostly _alphas_. Well he wasn’t sure what was worse. He glanced over to Sam who honestly didn’t seem to be faring with this whole awkward situation any better.

“You keep saying this guy’s my _brother_ ,” Sam was saying, putting air quotes around the word brother, “but I haven’t seen my brother since the fire. As far as I know, he didn’t make it out alive.” He wasn’t even looking at Dean now. His attention was on the alpha brothers. Dean would have been annoyed at being ignored but Sam said something that made him pause. Fire?

“What fire?” he asked. There had been a fire that engulfed the whole house. Not long after he had gotten out somehow, Alastair found him. He remembered that much at least. But he had to know if Sam was talking about that night. This kid might actually be his little brother after all. Sam turned to look at him. “There was a fire that took my whole family,” Dean explained. “When I was four. I watched my house burn. Mom...dad...my little brother, Sammy, who was just a baby at the time. None of them made it out.” He looked Sam up and down. “Or so I was told.”

Sam had been staring at him with his mouth open. His eyes seemed to soften when Dean glanced to the floor, unable to hold his gaze for so long. He rubbed the back of his neck. Truthfully he hated what he saw in Sam’s eyes. The pity and sorrow. He looked back up and saw Sam’s expression had shifted to that of understanding. Like he could relate.

“Yeah, uh, that’s kind of the same story I have actually,” the kid told him. They stared at each other for another moment before the front door creaked open and the smell of bacon and cheese pizza drifted inside. 

They all turned to see a man with dark hair and blue eyes walking into the room carrying a large stack of pizza boxes. Dean’s eyes drifted from the boxes to the newcomer. The guy smelled like an alpha just like the other two brothers. This must be Jimmy, he thought.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Jimmy said, glancing between them.

“Nonsense. You’re just on time,” Nick said cheerfully, taking a couple of boxes off him. He turned to the group. “Well, come on. Let’s get this celebration started already!”

They all opted for the table. The group followed Nick to the other room that held a large table that looked like it could seat more than five people. Dean sat across from Sam who sat between Nick and Jimmy. Dean sat next to Jimmy and Michael.

The pizza was actually pretty good. It also helped that Dean was pretty hungry. He didn’t eat much yesterday. He remembered having maybe a PB&J sandwich. Whatever had been left in the kitchen. Alastair didn’t often stock up. He tried not to think about the man. He wasn’t there anymore. He looked over to Sam. His long lost brother. Which was fucking insane. He didn’t think anyone could have survived, least of all, Sammy. He had been a baby after all. A small pool of guilt nestled in the pit of his stomach at that. Sam had been helpless and Dean had run that night, not even looking back. At least, that was how it must have gone. How else could Alastair have found him crying on the streets? Dean had been a coward. He left his family to die.

He glanced down at his plate. He had finished two slices and now he wasn’t all that hungry. Part of him wanted to put his plate to the side and take Sam to another room so that they could have their talk without any prying eye. He wanted so badly for Sam to really be his brother but at the same time he was also scared. He had been through his whole life thinking his entire family was dead, that he was trapped in this world all alone. Now that Sam was here staring him in the face...fuck. He had no clue where to even begin. 

“Dean, are you okay?” Dean looked up, startled. Four pairs of eyes were looking back at him in concern. It was kind of strange and also nice. He couldn’t remember a time anyone cared to show concern for him, like actual genuine concern. It had been Michael who spoke the words. “I know this might be overwhelming for you. You don’t know any of us after all. Did you want to ask your questions now? I’m sure you have many.”

 _Yeah, no kidding_ , Dean thought. He nodded. Of course he freaking had questions. He had lots of them. “How the hell did you know I was in trouble?” he blurted out before he could really think. “And _why_ did you save me?”

They all glanced at each other, having some weird ass silent conversation with just their eyes. Dean just sat there waiting.

Finally Michael looked him right in the eyes and said, “Because, Dean, you weren’t supposed to die there. You and Sam. You two are too important. You have work to do.”

Dean waited for someone to break into a big grin and yell, “Gotcha!” Because Michael couldn’t be serious. What the hell was that supposed to mean anyways? What work? Why the fuck was Dean important? Like okay, he didn’t know much about Sam but the kid looked pretty well adjusted. He was worth a shit ton more than Dean surely. So he could see why Sam could be special. But him? No fucking way. Dean was just a guy.

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked when no one said anything. “You saved me because I'm ‘important’?” The four of them exchanged more glances and now Dean was getting a little annoyed. “Come on, guys. You can’t just give me something vague like that. You told me you’d try your best to answer my questions. That can’t be all, right?” 

The silence that lingered over the table was longer than Dean would have liked. He was about ready to stand up when Sam said quietly, “You wouldn’t exactly believe us if we told you.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Try me. We’re supposed to be brothers, aren’t we? Do you guys just make it a habit to rescue poor, abused omegas for shits and giggles?” He watched as Sam let out a deep breath.

“Fine. You want the truth? It's kind of our job. We’re hunters. Whoever you _think_ they saved you from wasn’t actually human,” Sam said seriously. “Monsters are real, Dean.”


	4. monsters might be real

_Monsters are real._

_Whoever you think they saved you from wasn’t actually human._

_We’re hunters._

_Dean._

“Dean. Dude, say something,” Sam’s voice broke Dean out of his thoughts. He stared at his little brother. 

Dean had no idea what to say though. Sam couldn’t be serious. He looked around at the others. No one was laughing. No one was even smiling. “You’re joking, right? You expect me to believe that...monsters are real? Like actual monsters? I mean I know Alastair was a raging asshole but he was still human. Come on, guys.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at him. “You said you’d believe me. Believe us. Alastair was not human, Dean. I’m sorry to hear that he was an asshole, but trust me when I tell you he was far from human.”

“Okay. If you know so much, then what the fuck was Alastair?”

“A demon,” Jimmy answered before Sam could. Everyone turned to look at him. He took out a small notebook from the trench coat he wore. Flipping through the pages, he continued, “Alastair is a low level incubus. It’s a type of demon that feeds off of emotions, mostly fear and love.”

“A demon,” Dean repeated under his breath. There was no freaking way that the man who saved him was actually a demon in disguise. He pushed off the table and stood up. He had enough of this place. These guys were crazy. He could feel everyone looking at him. “So, thanks for the pizza and uh, saving me I guess, but you know what? I think it’s time for me to head out now.” Before he could take another step, the bulb of a lamp in the corner of the room shattered into tiny pieces. Dean froze. “What-”

“I suggest you sit down, Dean,” Michael said calmly.

Dean sat back down. “How did…”

“Magic,” Sam said under his breath. Dean hoped he would elaborate on that but his little brother turned his attention back on the pizza and everyone started to eat again. 

After they ate, the alphas agreed, somewhat reluctantly that the brothers would be fine catching up by themselves for a couple hours. Apparently the new guy, Jimmy, needed to speak with Michael and Nick in private. It was more than okay with Dean. He was curious about Sam and even though the kid seemed indifferent about the meeting, he was sure Sam felt the same way deep down.

“So, you guys claim to be hunters but what does that even mean?” Dean asked.

“Exactly how it sounds,” Sam said, picking up a knife and sharpening it. Dean eyed the weapon warily. Where the hell did the kid keep that thing? “We hunt monsters.”

“So like demons,” Dean said.

Sam paused, finally looking up. “Yeah, like demons. But there are more than just demons out there.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “There are more?”

Sam nodded before tucking the knife into the sheath just barely hidden in his jacket. “There’s a shit ton of stuff out there, Dean. Stuff of nightmares. Here.” He grabbed a book from a pile next to him and handed it over to Dean. “If there’s a lore on it, it usually exists.”

Dean looked down at the book he had been given. The cover was old and worn leather. He flipped it open. “This is a journal,” Dean mumbled, taking a look at crude drawings of monsters and symbols and barely decipherable handwriting. “Is this Jimmy’s?” he asked, remembering the small notebook the guy had been going through.

“No,” Sam said. He scooted a little closer so that he could read the page Dean had flipped to. Dean almost didn’t hear him when Sam finally said, “This is dad’s journal, Dean.”

Dean’s fingers hovered over the faded name _John Winchester_. He turned to stare at Sam. “What did you say?”

“This journal belongs to dad,” Sam said, unblinking. Before Dean knew it, Sam was reaching over him to grab the book. Startled by the movement, Dean tried to pull the book away but Sam’s grip was tight. In their struggle, a couple pictures fell out. Sam went to grab the pictures immediately. “Look, Dean,” he said, holding up one of them.

It was old, full of creases and stains but even still Dean could make out the picture clearly. There was a man with dark hair and a beard sitting on the hood of a sleek, black car. In his arms he was cradling a baby. He was staring directly at the camera with a grin and soft, hazel eyes. There was a little kid next to him with dark blond hair and green eyes and a smile so wide it seemed to light up his whole face. He stared down at the picture. It couldn’t be him and yet even at twenty two years old, there was no mistaking that face. That was him at four years old. Before the fire from the looks of it. The house that burned down what seemed like eons ago stood in the background. A woman stood on the other side. She looked beautiful with her long blond hair and blue eyes and her lips open and caught between a smile and a laugh. 

_Mom_ , he thought. It had to be mom. This was his mom. And his dad. This was him. All before the fire. This picture. God. They had been so happy. “Here,” Sam said, handing the other two pictures to him. 

Without thinking, Dean took them. Dean immediately noticed a few things about the next picture. There wasn’t a house behind them. Just the same car as before and some trees. It looked like the picture was taken off the side of a road. There was a little boy curled up asleep in John Winchester’s arms as he leaned back on the hood of the car. He looked tired and the boy he was carrying certainly wasn’t Dean. The boy had curly brown hair. Dean glanced up at Sam. Sam was staring down at the photo. This was John and Sam then. It had to be. But that couldn’t be right. Dad died in the fire with mom. Didn’t he? He glanced down at the photo, squinting at the little boy. But if this was Sammy, he had to be at least five when this picture was taken. 

“Is this picture really of you and dad?” he asked before he could stop himself.

There was a moment of silence before Sam said, “Yeah, Dean, that’s really me and that’s really dad. Look at the next one.”

Dean flipped the last photo around. Sam was staring back at him, no longer a little kid. He was probably thirteen, tall and gangly and holding a rifle over his shoulder. John was leaning over a shovel, looking a little annoyed about something but Sam was all smiles. It would’ve made for a typical picture of a father and his son but Dean caught sight of something disturbing at the kid’s feet, just barely making it into the photo. 

“Is that a...bone?” Dean asked, squinting at the photo. Because it sure as hell looked like one. 

Sam nodded. “Yeah. We were hunting a ghost,” came the absurd answer.

“A ghost,” Dean repeated, still staring down at the picture. This couldn’t be real. His brother was not actually this weird, creepy ass kid who thought he went ghost hunting with Dean’s dead father. He almost jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Sam staring at him with those wide, brown eyes.

“Look, Dean, I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’ve got to trust me when I say that there are things out there that will do anything to want to hurt you or worse. We hunt these things before they can hurt anyone else. I’m telling you the truth,” Sam said, pleading with his eyes for Dean to believe in him.

Dean blinked, unsure what to do in the face of Sam’s sincerity. He realized that the kid could easily be lying to him. After all, he really didn’t know Sam. He didn’t know anyone here. He just woke up here suddenly and was asked to trust them, these total strangers. 

These strangers who didn’t have to save him but did regardless. They could have left him to die. Hell they even patched him up afterwards and gave him food. 

Even if Sam was somehow lying about being his brother, which part of him was starting to think he might be telling the truth on that front, it still didn’t explain how he came to be possessing a picture that clearly had Dean in it. He sighed, knowing there was a lot he still wasn’t being told about. But one thing was for certain, Sam was probably a lot safer than being out there by himself at this point. Plus even if Sam and the others were a little crazy, Dean couldn’t deny that he was at least a little curious.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Okay, Sammy, say that I believe you. You’re my brother and monsters are real and you guys, uh, hunt these things. Say I believe all that stuff. What now?”

Sam looked like he was going to say something, but Nick appeared by the doorway and said, “Hate to break up this chick flick moment, boys, but we think Deano should see this.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, annoyed to be interrupted when he was trying to get to know the kid. “Look, pal-”

“Clearly, you’re misunderstanding me here. This isn’t up for debate, _Winchester_ ,” Nick said firmly before turning to the stairs. 

Dean turned to look at Sam, a little bewildered. “What the hell is his problem?”

Sam shrugged, stretching out his legs. “Nick can sometimes be like that but normally he’s pretty laid back. Whatever it is they need you for is just stressing him a little.”

“That sounds just lovely,” Dean deadpanned. “Definitely more incentive for me to go up alone and surround myself with three alphas I don’t know.”

Sam rolled his eyes. He stood up. “You don’t know me either,” the kid pointed out but he looked ready to follow Dean.

Dean shrugged. He set the book down on the floor by his feet and stood up as well. “Yeah well, one, we’re _brothers_. And two, you’re not an alpha,” Dean said as they headed out of the room.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to say you feel safe with me or something?”

Dean cleared his throat as they reached the stairs. Honestly he wasn’t sure. Sam was still a stranger but there was a small part of Dean that somehow felt connected to the kid. “I don’t know. I guess?” He shrugged, trying not to make a big deal about it.

He couldn’t see Sam’s face as they walked up the stairs but he could feel the kid’s eyes boring into his back. “If it makes you feel any better, I feel the same way,” Sam said quietly once they reached the top of the stairs.

Dean turned around to look at his brother, but before he could reply, he was being flung to the wall on the other side of the hallway.

“DEAN!” Sam shouted.

His back throbbed, reminding him of the wound in his back. He gave a low groan as he opened his eyes slowly. What the hell just happened? He could see something standing on the other side of the hall. A dark shadow with yellow glowing eyes and a wide gap of sharp canines the size of icicles. Dean froze, not quite understanding what he was seeing. What the fuck was this monstrosity?

“Dean, you’re going to be okay. I’ve got this,” Sam was saying, trying to step in between him and the monster that couldn’t possibly exist.

He turned to face the thing that Dean could still see. Quickly, Sam took out his knife and started to rush the monster. The thing hissed as Sam got close enough to swipe the knife across its face. It shoved Sam out of the way and said in that nasal voice Dean would never forget, “Ohhh Dean Winchessster.”

“Alastair?” Dean asked in a horrified whisper.


	5. fear of the boogeyman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was gone for a while. I'd been caught up with a lot and got a little lazy in writing. Here's another chapter! Warnings for Alastair being a big asshole and yeah. Don't worry, Cas, Michael and Lucifer will show up in the next chapter. I'll be replying to all the comments ASAP. Thank you for still following the story guys!

“ _Heaven. Ohhh, I’m in heaven_.” Alastair smiled widely at Dean, showing off his horrible, sharp teeth and started to walk toward him. With each step he took, the lights in the hallway flickered and the shadows on the wall grew bigger and everything seemed to be closing in on Dean. He was trapped against the wall, unable to escape this horrifying nightmare he found himself in. He really wished he could put more distance between this thing that was somehow Alastair, yet more terrifying than Alastair could ever have hoped to be. Yes, he had been an asshole alpha who thought he could force Dean to love him, but he had been human then. Or at least looked human. Dean had no clue what this thing was. “ _And my heart beatsss so that I can hardly speak_! Come on, Deaaanooo. Ssssing with me,” Alastair hissed. He was so close to Dean now that the shadow was towering over him. This close up Dean could see long claws in place of fingers. He was going to die here. For real this time. He hadn’t escaped at all.

Before Dean could answer, Sam got up to his feet and charged the monster from behind, “Get the hell away from my brother!”

He was able to stab Alastair in the back with the knife. Dean watched in silent horror as Alastair howled with pain and swung a claw around at Sam. Sam was able to see it just in time to duck. He took hold of the knife and turned it and Alastair hissed in response. Dean wasn’t sure what happened in the next second though because the monster didn’t connect with Sam before he saw his little brother being flung into the wall on the other side. Alastair turned with a snarl, “I’ll deal with you later, Winchesssster.” Then he reached behind him to grab the knife. As soon as he touched it, however, he hissed and retracted his claw. There was a sizzling sound and smoke and the claw seemed to ripple for a moment. Alastair tried again to grab the knife with his other claw and the same thing happened to that one. He growled, “What the fuck did you do?”

“Doused it in holy water, asshole,” Sam said, stumbling to his feet. He was leaning heavily against the wall but there was something like determination in his eyes.

“My, my. Aren’t you a cleverrr little boy. Too bad thisss won’t kill me.” Alastair stood still for a moment, then the knife started to slowly pull out on its own before dropping to the floor. Sam stared at the demon, not moving and Dean slowly realized this might have been Sam’s only plan. They were both hurt and Alastair’s attention had shifted to his brother now. The knife lay just a few feet away from Dean but honestly he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to stand. His legs felt an awful lot like jelly and he was still torn between believing this was just a nightmare he could wake from because nothing was making a lick of sense right now. “Don’t look ssso surprised, Sssammy,” Alastair was saying as he stalked over to his brother. Sam’s eyes widened just a little at his name. “Yesss, I know who you are. Did you think I took Deano by accident? I targeted your family that night. Wasss hoping to take you both but I’d been too late. John Winchessster took you up in hisss arms and carried you far away after he tried ssso hard to look for little Deano that night. Had to make do with the brat that you call your brother, but it wasss worth it in the end. He fed me for such a long time. Didn’t hurt that he’s pretty too, your brother. And an omega no lessss. Wonder what John would think of hissss son presenting as an omega?”

Dean froze. He knew for some time now that Alastair had been using him. He had horrible memories of presenting and Alastair tying him down during heats. He remembered the feeling of complete helplessness as he came to afterwards, struggling against his bonds, stark naked on the bed, staring at his own dismayed eyes in the mirror. Oh god, if John really was alive, what the fuck would he think of Dean? Being a slave to his own body for a monster like Alastair the past twenty-two years. Why the fuck would he think someone like him could ever hope to be saved? There was no escape. Not for people like Dean.

“Ahhh, can’t you smell that, Sssammy?” Alastair leaned in close to the hunter. His teeth scraped his neck, “It’s the smell of fear. Of defeat. Of complete and utter hopelessness. And it’s coming from your sweet older brother. You and your friendssss thought you could just take my toy from me, but in the end, all you hunters are the same. All bark and _no_ bite.”

“Shut up!” Sam shouted. He sounded kind of far away, like he was more than just on the other side of the hall. Dean felt like he was floating in a dream (or a nightmare, take your pick) but deep down, he knew that Sam was here with him and he was fighting the monster that called himself Alastair and this was all real. Oh fucking god, this was real. Alastair was some horrifying nightmare come to life and Sammy, his _dead_ little brother, was fighting it, fighting _Dean’s_ battle because he was too pathetic to do it himself, had to get little brother’s help, he was just a weak little omega who didn’t grow up with a daddy and mommy and little Sammy, no he had a monster raise him his whole life and goodness, Deano, didn’t think you’d grow up to be such a sniveling little coward…

“...poor little Deano, all alone in the world, no mommy, no daddy, now you’re just finding out you had a baby brother who wasn’t so dead after all,” Alastair was whispering into his ear and how the fuck did he get so close to him without him noticing? Where the fuck did Sam go? “Didn’t even think to look for him, not even once, did you, Deano? Did you actually care about your brother? Would you have tried to run away and look for him if you knew he was alive?” The monster paused briefly, like it was waiting for Dean to respond. 

But what the fuck could he say to this thing? ‘Fuck you, of course I’d run and try and find Sam if I knew he was alive, you motherfucking asshole. He’s my brother!’ Something sharp twisted in his gut. Would he really though? If Alastair told him the truth, would he really have tried to run and find his long lost brother? There must have been something in his eyes, something like terror and maybe shame, because fuck...Alastair might be right about him. 

The shadow, menacing and large, laughed. That godawful sinister sound that Dean absolutely hated hearing, the sound that followed him from his nightmares, leaving him drenched in cold sweat at night. “Yesss, that’s right, Dean Winchester. Like you’d ever try and find that snot nosed punk you call a little brother. Like you have a single heroic bone somewhere in that hot damn sack of insecurity and self-loathing you call a body.” 

Alastair stared him down a moment, eyes glowing that unnatural yellow. Dean stared up at him, wondering if he was staring into the face of death. Damn, what a way to go, right? Just found out his brother was alive and apparently doing pretty well for himself, hunting things like Alastair and saving idiots like Dean. Except this time, poor guy chewed a little more than he could handle. He wanted to laugh. Poor fucking _bastard_ wasn’t gonna save Dean, but it wasn’t like that was his brother’s fault. Not like he knew what an idiot his older brother was. Not like he knew what a weakling Dean was. Nah. None of this was on Sammy. This. Alastair. Dean. Everything. This was all on Dean. Shit. How the fuck did his life come to this? Not even a full day really and everything Dean knew about his life had to just crash and burn. Like the house, the house from before, the one that was engulfed in a blazing inferno and took mom and got Dean separated from dad and Sammy. He blinked as traces of old memory of the night returned to him.

_There was smoke. Dean was awake before he knew it, snapped out of a dream where he had wings and a halo and he was flying. He looked around the room. Dark. It was all dark. He couldn’t see much. There were shadows and darkness, something was swirling around on his ceiling, something that shouldn’t be there. It was unnatural. Right? But then there was smoke and he rushed off the bed, staggered to his feet, coughing. He ran out of the room and into the hallway. The light in the hall was dim, then it was flickering. Dean stared for a moment, just a moment, like he was caught in a trance. But dad came stomping up the stairs, eyes wide, hands on the rails shaking. His gaze was wild, panicked, sweeping to his left, then to his right, before finding Dean, small and terrified and unsure what was going on, but relieved to see a familiar face._

_“Dad?” Dean asked._

_“Dean. Oh thank god, kiddo,” dad said, swooping Dean into his arms. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing, letting himself nuzzle into the crook of his dad’s neck, breathing in his dad’s calming, familiar scent of leather and cigars and apple pie. Dad was here, so everything was going to be okay. He’d let himself fall back to sleep and he’d wake up the next morning and everything would be right again. It had to. All he had to do was close his eyes. Just close your eyes, Dean, go to sleep. It’s okay. It’ll be okay…_

“Open your eyes, Deano,” his dad whispered. “Come on, open your eyes, Deano.” His dad’s voice started to change, just a little, just enough. Dean opened his eyes wide. Alastair stared him right back. “That’s it, kiddo. Face your fucking death like a man,” he hissed, his claw poised in the air like a sword. Sharpened. Deadly. Aimed right at Dean’s heart. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. This was it. His death. He was gonna freaking die. 

_Do you want to die_? A small voice in the back of his head hissed.

Was that a freaking trick question?

Did he want to die? Like he had a choice right now? Him? Dean Winchester? An omega, weak and useless, who let himself be fucked into the mattress by this _monster_ , who was oh so very, painfully ordinary. He wasn’t a hunter like his brother. Or apparently like his dad. He wasn’t an alpha like Jimmy or Nick or Michael. He was Dean Winchester. A guy who wallowed in his own self pity for years, a coward who didn’t bother to search for his brother. Of course he wanted to live, but did he even deserve to live?

“Dean! Oh fuck, Dean! Get your fugly claws away from my brother, you spawn of satan!”

Sam leapt onto Alastair, momentarily distracting the monster. “Why you little brat,” Alastair hissed, swiveling this way and that to try and disorient the other Winchester. Dean was frozen, watching the surreal exchange, before he noticed something shine in the dark. It was small and dim at first. He squinted, wondering if he was seeing it wrong. The thing, what looked almost like a small sphere, glowed a little brighter as he leaned forward. The room was eerily silent as he reached a hand out, trying to touch it. 

_Just a little more_ , a voice in his head said. _Just a little closer._

“Just a little closer,” he repeated under his breath.

He could feel it. The warmth, the power buzzing through the air, just under his fingertips, as he got closer. Come on, come on, Winchester, the voice within him said, egging him on. Just...just a little closer, yeah come on, there you go, there it is-

Alastair jerked back, as if burned, his mouth open in a silent scream.


	6. keep fighting

Dean wasn’t sure what was going on. He felt like he was floating, like he was outside his body. 

He thought maybe he could hear things, like screaming, lots and lots of screaming but he wasn’t sure who was screaming. It wasn’t loud. In fact it sounded quiet, muted, like someone dialed down the volume. He couldn’t really see anything. There was just darkness, a lot of darkness. Everywhere he looked, it was black, like he had his eyes closed, except he was pretty sure his eyes were open. He tried to turn around but he couldn’t really feel his body. He tried to move his hands but it was like he didn’t have hands. It was like he was just a bunch of thoughts floating around in darkness, and that scared Dean for a moment. 

Where the hell did his body go? 

Was he even alive?

Did he die? Was this hell? Purgatory? Was this where bad omegas went when they died? Dean had always been a foolish omega, didn’t know how to please anybody, let alone his alpha.

“ _Bad omegas get gutted, Dean_ ,” Alastair’s voice hissed. It echoed loudly around him, and Dean wished he had eyes so that he could close them right now, and he wished he had hands and ears so that he could reach up and cover them so that he couldn’t listen to the alpha’s awful voice and his awful words. “ _Bad omegas get to die_.”

Sorry. He was sorry. He was so sorry. He was never good enough. He would never, ever be good enough. He knew that. He knew that so why did Alastair always have to remind him? 

“Because you’re bad, Deano. Because you’re worthless. Because you’ll never amount to anything. You’ll never be like your baby brother. You’ll always be a disappointment to your daddy.”

Shut up, he thought. Please, please shut up.

“Don’t you wonder why your daddy didn’t come back to get you that night? Why he left you with a demon instead?”

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

“You’re not worth keeping, Deano. You’re just an omega. You were made to warm a bed and keep a demon like myself fed real well. But you just had to mess that up too, didn’t you? You had to run away, had to make me chase you. Thought you lost me, didn’t you? But here I am. I found you, and I’m going to take you back, and you’re going to face your punishment like a good little boy.”

Nononono. He wasn’t going to go back. He couldn’t. Alastair would torture him and then he’d kill him. He’d kill Dean over and over again. He’d make Dean scream and cry and beg and he’d take pleasure in it. He’d smile, he’d smile real wide as Dean pleaded for his life, he’d take pleasure in his despair. Please don’t let him go back. Please don’t. Pleasepleaseplease.

That small sphere of light reappeared before Dean and before he realized what he was doing, he was reaching out to touch it again. It glowed brighter as he brushed a finger against it. He could hear the screaming again, louder this time, echoing all around him and it made Dean freeze in place.

 _No, don’t stop now_ , the voice inside his head said. _Take it, hold it. You got this._

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare mess with things you don’t have a fucking clue about, boy,” Alastair hissed. “If you let it go now and come back with me quietly, I might be willing to go easier on you but you need to drop it. Now.”

Dean trembled. He could imagine Alastair looming over him. Could see those wicked, evil eyes glaring down at him. He wanted to drop to his knees like he’d been taught, he wanted to bare his throat in submission, but that little voice said, _NO. Don’t listen to him. He can’t hurt you here. Just finish the process._

Finish what? What the hell did he have to finish?

He looked down at the little orb of light in front of him and closed his fist around it.

White light engulfed the entire room.

-

The human soul was a complicated thing. It could be punched and kicked and tossed around, but it always seemed to find a way back whole again. It might be a long process depending on the damage, but in the end, God created humans with resilience that Michael secretly envied. He watched from the doorway of the other room, just within the shadows where neither Winchesters could see him. He had seen the light. He knew his brothers had seen it too. They both stopped whatever bickering and came to stand next to Michael, just as intrigued by the sudden light show.

The entire hall was engulfed in the bright light for a few agonizingly long minutes. Michael watched as the demon tried to pull away from the eldest Winchester, but it looked almost like Dean was in a trance, and he grabbed hold of the demon with a strength that a human surely couldn’t be capable of. The demon, Alastair, struggled in the human’s grasp but it was no use. Dean Winchester didn’t seem to want him to go anywhere. The longer Winchester held onto the demon, the brighter the light got. Michael felt his youngest brother, Castiel, try and pull away, looking like he wanted to intervene, but Michael was quick and he gripped his brother on the shoulder, startling him to look curiously back.

“We should step in, Michael,” Castiel protested. “Whatever Dean Winchester is doing, he will need our help.”

Michael shook his head and turned back to where Dean Winchester let go of the demon. The light faded around them and the demon dropped like a stone to the floor. Except it wasn’t a demon with glowing eyes and a mouth full of razor sharp teeth and claws large and sharp. It was just a man, old and pale and lanky. But still wholly human.

Perhaps Lucifer was right after all. Dean Winchester was no ordinary human. This was going to be interesting.


End file.
